


Just Takes A Near Death Experience

by Caedes12



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:15:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25316665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedes12/pseuds/Caedes12
Summary: It was hilarious for Draco to watch someone flirting with Harry from the outside only because he knew how frustrating it was when it was him. Draco had to basically choke on Potter’s cock to get the message across to Potter that he liked him. Literally. Actually that was probably what got the message across.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Viktor Krum/Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 105
Collections: HP Triad!Fest Presents: Poly!Mini Fest





	Just Takes A Near Death Experience

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first fest! I was scared I would be frozen by fear and not be able to write a thing. But I DID IT!

Draco grabbed a piece of parchment off the table. His hands shaking. He wasn’t sure how he got to this point, but he felt like throwing up. He hoped his letter got there quickly. He _prayed_ the owl flew fast. He wasn’t sure the last time he prayed.

But he knew he couldn’t do this alone as he ran to the floo.

* * * 

Draco nodded to the bartender as he got his cocktail. It was a martini, dirty, with three olives because his boyfriend would inevitably steal one. He pretended like he cared, but he never really did. The bar was perfectly aligned with his tastes, quality furniture, a bartender that took their job extremely seriously, and _quality_ ingredients. He couldn’t help but indulge one of his many, dearly beloved, proclivities as he also accepted the beer bottle. So he watched from a distance as his boyfriend—oh, fiancé, but that was new so he can be forgiven for forgetting—clearly had no idea he was being hit on. Potter had a great laugh. He always tilted his head back and his thick dark hair always danced around him. It was a little longer than usual, just touching his collar.

It was hilarious watching someone flirting with him from the outside only because he knew how frustrating it was when it was _him_. Draco had to basically choke on Potter’s cock to get the message across to Potter that he _liked_ him.

Literally. Actually that was probably what got the message across.

For an auror who was damn good at his job, he was _terrible_ at understanding anything about flirtations. Draco blamed the Dark Lord, since it was probably his fault. The bar was uncharacteristically loud. It was completely swarmed by Quidditch players. Harry, as a gift and date, had gotten tickets to see the Bulgarian National Quidditch team play the Brazilian team. Neither Harry nor Draco had any particular affinity for the teams, but wanted to go to the game as avid Quidditch fans. It had been an incredible game. The chasers from both teams were both tactically strong—Draco hadn’t ever seen a game like that before. Catching the snitch was almost secondary to the incredible game play. They had been in the process of leaving the booth when one of the Quidditch League members caught up to Potter and offered him a chance to party with the players after. Both teams were going into a two week off period and needed to blow off some steam. Draco readily accepted for the both of them.

That was how they made it to some posh bar in Bulgaria. It was quidditch team, and guests, only. Draco was glad for the exclusivity, as the press had been relentless during the game. They had not worn out as a novelty couple yet.

“You’re a Malfoy—right?” A woman came up and asked. Draco tensed, there was only two ways this could go. They could know his father and love the family, or they could hate everything about them.

“Yes.” Draco answered, turning to her.

“Draco?” She asked, but the ‘a’ was flat.

“Draco.” He corrected.

“You made my sister’s wand.” She said with a smile.

“And she likes it?”

“Yes—it’s hard to compare because the last one was my aunt’s. It never fit her right—but this one is perfect. I used my signing bonus to pay for a new wand for her, she was so excited.”

“I am glad she likes it.” Draco said.

“I am thinking of getting one myself—I have my grandmother’s wand. I haven’t had the problem like my sister, but—I don’t know if I should.”

“Wands are a bit like people. They conform to their environment, especially after a long time of use. Sometimes though, the fit just is never there. Your wand might have adapted to you. It doesn’t mean that a new wand wouldn’t be a better fit, but it sounds like your current wand has molded to fit you as best it can.”

“I thought I would get a sales pitch to buy a new wand—you’re not enabling my shopping habits.”

Draco laughed, “You are free to spend your money at my shop.”

“There! That’s the excuse I wanted.”

“Well, cheers then—send me an owl and I can start pulling options before you arrive, if you want to purchase from me.”

“Definitely. Thank you, Draco, I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome—”

“Lena.” She answered.

“Lena” Draco nodded. She grabbed the cocktail from the bartender and went off with another gaggle of players. Draco turned back to see Potter laughing. He only watched for a moment longer before walking back to the high-top table where Potter was shamelessly unaware of the flirtations. He sat down Potter’s beer on the table, turning to see the familiar face across from him. He rubbed his hand along Potter’s back, taking the seat next to him.

“Draco, you remember Viktor?” Harry smiled at him. And Merlin’s beard that smile was nearly enough to send him to his knees. Those green eyes lit up—Draco thought he would never see that gaze directed at him.

“I do, how are you?”

“Doing well.” Viktor looked slightly put out.

“I don’t know what you are drinking, otherwise I would have gotten you one as well.” Viktor had a piercing gaze of his own. His dark brown eyes quickly evaluating Draco. He looked cautious, perhaps a bit apprehensive.

“I am not drinking tonight.” He answered, “Well, besides water.” He held up his water glass.

“Well cheers then, to a game well played.” Draco said. Bulgaria had lost, but Viktor had caught the snitch. It had been a goal at the last second that pushed Brazil over. Viktor hadn’t known until it was too late.

“Thank you.” Viktor clinked his glass against his. Draco let his eyes flow over Viktor. He had on a soft grey cotton shirt with nice slacks. Draco knew the brand was expensive, despite the simple design. He should probably get Harry some, as he was obsessed with soft clothes. He let himself get caught staring.

“I’m going to get you a shirt like that.” Draco said to Harry.

“You have to stop buying me things.”

“Well, how do you know I like you if I don’t buy you things?” Draco asked.

Harry rolled his eyes, “There are more ways than that—good conversation, quality time—all things that do not involve purchases.”

“Well this man has been flirting with you, and you haven’t acknowledged it the entire time.” Draco said. Viktor flushed, looking down at his drink.

“I—I didn’t mean—I am sorry.”

“I’m not.” Draco said with a grin.

“Merlin’s beard Draco, don’t call the man out.”

“We do not object to a third.” Draco said.

“ _Draco_.” Harry flushed, looking around. They had extensive conversations about this. Though they might have been emotionally constipated when it came to talking about their feelings, they had many conversations on what they liked in bed. Draco had insisted. You don’t get to tie someone up and fuck them senseless without multiple conversations about kinks.

“He will be discrete, Harry. He knows the press is relentless just like we do—and I think he can recognize a good time.” Draco grinned, “If I read the situation wrong, I apologize.”

“N-no.” Victor stuttered a bit, grinning, “This would not be my first threesome. First all male—but not first threesome.”

“Are you saying yes?” Draco asked with a grin.

“Yes.” Victor answered.

“Do I get a vote?” Harry asked.

“Of course you do babe.” Draco replied, “Do you want to take home this extremely attractive man who has been flirting with you all night long?” Victor snorted as Harry rolled his eyes, “It’s the least you can do.”

“And we’re just going to hope the hotel doesn’t say anything?”

“My place is not too far.” Victor said, “Just a few blocks.”

“That sounds good.” Harry said, reaching over to Draco’s martini to grab one of the olives at the end. Draco gave him a flat look, “What? You got three. So one of them has to be for me.”

Draco rolled his eyes, finishing the last of his martini, “Shall we get out of here?”

It took a moment for Draco to realize where they were when he woke up. He knew he hadn’t slept for long. He looked at his wrist watch to see it was only 7 AM. The blinds were wide open, letting in the ample summer sun. His arm was wrapped around Harry’s waist. He always loved seeing his skin against Harry’s. His skin was so pale against Harry’s olive toned one, it looked even paler against Viktor’s even darker one.

“What time is it?” Harry’s voice sounded thoroughly fucked.

“Seven.” Draco answered.

“We’ve only been asleep three hours.” Harry grumbled, pulling Draco closer. He was _such_ a cuddle slut. Draco sat up a bit and noticed they were there alone.

“We best make sure we haven’t over stayed our welcome.” Draco said.

Harry frowned, “I like him.”

“Same—he fucks you almost as well as I fuck you.”

Harry chuckled, opening his eyes to meet Draco’s, “You’ve had more practice.”

“True.” Draco grinned, kissing him chastely. He pulled Harry closer, squeezing his arse as he did so.

“Ow.” Harry huffed into the kiss.

“Hm, he did fuck you well.”

Harry snorted, “Fuck you.”

Draco smiled, kissing his nose, “We’re ok?”

Harry nodded, “We’re ok.” Harry turned a bit red, “I wouldn’t mind doing that again.”

“I wouldn’t either—we can let him know to owl us at the English game then? It’s in three weeks.” Harry nodded. Draco hummed, kissing him again, “Let’s see if Viktor agrees.”

“I hope so.” Harry stretched as Draco hopped out of bed, grabbing his boxers.

“Get up, lazy prat.” Draco rolled his eyes.

“Just a minute, mum.” Harry frowned, “This bed is comfortable.”

“The man likes nice things.” Draco agreed. He grabbed Viktor’s shirt from the ground and threw it at Harry. With a wink, he walked out of the bedroom. At first, he wondered if the Bulgarian had run out of his own apartment. But then, Draco spotted him standing on the balcony. He was wearing his pajamas. He had a cup of coffee in hand, staring out without looking at anything. Draco knew that look. Harry wore it when he was overthinking, and feeling a bit down on himself.

Draco walked out onto the balcony. He rubbed Viktor’s shoulder, making him jump a bit.

“Didn’t know you were awake.” Viktor said, his cheeks turning a bit pink.

“I just woke up.”

“Harry?”

“Princess is loving that bed too much—and I think your clothes as well.” Draco said with a smirk. Viktor smiled, though it failed to meet his eyes, “If we are overstaying our welcome, we can leave. But if your amenable, I think we’d appreciate some coffee and breakfast if you have any to spare.”

Viktor looked up to him, his shoulders dropping as he noticeably relaxed, “I’d like that.” He grinned, “I was hoping you both—I am not sure what I was hoping—this is—I just got sober, six months. This is the first time I have had sex with anyone since then. I can’t remember the last time I had sex sober.” He looked down, scratching the back of his neck, “Sorry. I tend to overshare now that I don’t drink—my feelings just seem like too much to stop.” Draco didn’t think anything he could say would comfort him, so he just kissed him instead. That usually helped Harry. Sure enough, Viktor lit up when Draco pulled away.

“Harry doesn’t mind staying?”

“No. He doesn’t mind at all.” Harry said with a grin on his face, kissing Viktor, “As long as you don’t mind me wearing this shirt.” Viktor kissed him again.

“I do not mind.”

Brunch was full of laughter and food. Harry ate his fill, and complained jovially about how difficult it was to sit. Draco did not miss the little touches. Harry was extremely tactile—and Draco tried to give him every touch he could. But he wasn’t built like that. For whatever reason, growing up in his own home made him max out on touch extremely quickly. He regretted tensing when Harry needed his touch. Viktor did not seem to mind at all, easily indulging in Harry’s whims.

“You will owl us when you come to London, won’t you?” Harry asked.

“Come to the game, then I won’t need to owl you.” Viktor said with a wink.

Harry laughed, turning to Draco, “You think we can go?”

“Oh, I think we can pencil you in.” Draco said with an exaggerated sigh.

Harry was practically bouncing off the walls when Bulgaria came into town. Not even the halls of the Manor could contain his eagerness when he came to pick Draco up after work so they could go together. Harry had moved into the Manor some months before. It was divinity to wake up to him every day—or the days he was home. Between the two of their schedules, they had to work hard in order to make time for one another. Sometimes they let the job get the best of them, which is why it was even better to live together. At least they could be unconscious next to each other.

“Do you think he remembers?” Harry asked.

“Who could forget fucking you?” Draco asked back.

Harry rolled his eyes, “Maybe this time you can fuck him.”

“Hm.” Draco grinned,

“Don’t even bother denying wanting to.”

“I won’t.” Draco turned to Harry.

“You’re a cocky shit, but you are turning me on right now.” Harry said with a groan.

“Keep it in your pants, Potter. We have a date to impress tonight.” Draco replied, straightening his jacket.

“Let’s get to the stadium.” Harry pulled him along.

Draco didn’t think either one of them payed much attention to the game. Bulgaria didn’t play their best, but Viktor sure did. It was like he knew they were both watching.

That night, after the game, they went to a restaurant that Harry and Draco frequented for date nights. They ate great food and laughed the entire time. Viktor looked particularly good in a dark brown leather jacket and slacks.

“Stop staring at his arse every time he gets up.” Harry teased when Viktor sat down again, “He has a face.”

“I wore these pants for that very reason, so he can look all he wants.” Viktor said with a wink.

“Hm, I dislike being so predictable.” Draco frowned, taking a sup of wine.

Viktor sniffed, “Please, you’re the topiest top I have ever met.”

Harry laughed, and Draco glared at him, “What? Babe! It’s true!”

“Have you ever fucked him?” Viktor asked, waggling his brows at Harry. Harry reached out and brushed his shoulder. The touching just as easy and breathless as it had been at brunch. Draco wished he could do that. 

“No.” Harry laughed.

“That’s only because you are the most bottomy bottom.” Draco retorted.

“Now that is not true.” Harry argued.

“I agree with Harry on this one.” Viktor said to Draco, “I’m pretty sure he could fuck me.” Draco frowned, “You just see bottoms because you’re the topiest top.” Harry snorted into his drink.

“You’re not supposed to laugh at that.” Draco accused.

“It’s true!” Harry laughed.

That night, Draco fucked Viktor on top of Harry, who murmured obscenities in Viktor’s ear as he milked his cock. Afterwards, Draco coached the quidditch player on all the best ways to bring Harry to the edge, but not let him cum—and then to finally do it.

It began a process of planning to see Viktor quite regularly. It was not odd for Draco to come home after a long day at the shop to see Harry and Viktor chatting over the dining room table. Draco tried to be friendly, but he was struggling to be as easy with Viktor as Harry. Harry had this effortless way of making friends. When all three of them were together, Draco noticed Harry brought Draco into the conversation, making sure he felt included. It wasn’t necessarily surprising that Harry was better friends with Viktor, but it was frustrating. Draco just didn’t know how to get out of his own skin. Harry encouraged him to have his own nights with Viktor when he was going out on auror raids, or on long nights.

The first night it was awkward for too long. They ended up talking mostly about Quidditch. But Draco found out Viktor liked the finer things in life about as much as he did. When Draco showed him the collection of limited-edition racing brooms and custom builds, Viktor started drooling. He promised he would have Draco over to his place to show off his own collection. They started talking about builds, makes and models. The different woods and spells woven into the material.

“I have never met someone not in Quidditch who knows as much about brooms as you do.” Viktor complemented.

“Part of my work with wands, a lot of it bleeds into quidditch brooms. There is a joke out there that people who couldn’t take the pressure of wand building went to brooms—but then there is also jokes that you have to be kooky to build wands.”

Viktor snorted, “I don’t disagree with that.” Draco only glared at him, “I have seen several of your wands, they are incredible.

Draco blushed, “Thank you. I am no Olivander.”

“My wand is made by Gregorovitch, one of the last ones sold.” He held it up to Draco.

“You sure?” Draco asked. Perhaps he didn’t give himself enough credit for being friendly with Viktor if he was so willing to hand over his wand. He couldn’t quite believe it.

“It is in good hands.” Viktor said with a smile as he let Draco take it from his hands.

“Dragon heartstring—10 ¼ inch. Hornbeam.” Draco touched it carefully, feeling the power pulse beneath his fingertips. He could feel the warmth the wand had for Viktor, trying to pull itself back to its owner. Draco could tell the wand was well loved.

“Controversial, I know.” Viktor rubbed his face, “Guess it explains my obsession with quidditch.”

“Hornbeam is said to gravitate towards those with lifelong obsessions—at least this one has served you well.” Draco carefully handed it back to Viktor.

“Am I obsessed with Quidditch because of the wand? Or the other way around?” Viktor asked, he sounded like he was teasing but Draco wasn’t so sure.

“The wand chooses the wizard, Viktor. I believe the passion was in you, the wand chose you for that reason.” Draco handed it back.

“Passion sounds better than obsession.”

“I believe it depends on the outcome.” Draco grinned.

That evening started a flimsy friendship. Draco was still a bit envious of the easy conversations that Harry and Viktor had, but he couldn’t quite catch up to them. It was getting better, stronger, but it was also difficult with all of their competing schedules. Viktor was winding down in quidditch season, Bulgaria wasn’t going to any playoff games due to a rough performance all year. He promised to see them more once he was in off season, but it wasn’t as if Harry and Draco’s schedule was particularly easy to schedule around either.

Viktor didn’t always see them at their best either. He had come over one evening in the middle of an ongoing argument between them about whether or not Harry should take the Head Auror position. Robards basically had told him it was his when he wanted it, but Harry was still dragging his feet.

“I would be the youngest person to ever take the chair, it means I haven’t truly earned it.” Harry argued, “The minister just wants my name in the paper.”

“Of course he does, Harry!” Draco argued, “But that doesn’t mean you haven’t _earned_ it. You basically put in years of experience at Hogwarts!”

“Doesn’t count.”

Draco couldn’t help the enraged sound that came out of his throat, “For _Merlin’s_ sake, Potter, why the fuck does it not?”

“Should I come back another time?” Viktor had a slight smile on his face, dressed in white button down and khakis. Draco’s scowl lightened at the sight of him.

“I won’t change for you Draco. I told you I would not leave my job.” Harry said. That cut into Draco, it made all sort of pressure build in his chest and his eyes burn, “I love what I do out in the field.”

“If he is not ready to move on, he is not ready.” Viktor said to Draco. Heat burned through his gut.

“You are projecting your own insecurities about retirement on him.” Draco pointed to Viktor, “And you,” He turned to Harry, “I don’t want to change you, Harry. I want you to accept the position you _more than deserve_. And one that I think you _actually want_.”

Draco turned around without waiting for another word and marched out of the room. His heals echoed down the halls, and he purposefully made them as loud as possible. He headed to a completely different wing—the guest wing of the house—in order to get away. It was a habit he had when he was a kid too. He climbed up the marble steps, and eventually made his way to one of his favorite spots. It was an outdoor balcony, overlooking the side lawns. There was a bottle of his favorite cognac under a slight chilling spell. He grabbed a free glass and eagerly poured it into the cup. The burn hit his lips as he washed down his anger. Though part of him still wanted to hurl the glass and hear it shatter.

They were probably fucking without him. He frowned into his glass and took a large gulp. He stared at the cracks in the ground, wondering if he should have a house elf make sure that the balcony wasn’t going to fall apart beneath him. It would probably be a fitting end for him anyway. What was so _wrong_ with him wanting Harry to have an advancement?

He let out a slow breath, dropping down into the patio chair. Viktor and Harry were near perfect for one another in their blind need to stay absolutely where they are, instead of advancing. He didn’t understand why ambition was such a dirty word.

“Draco?” Harry called to him. That was pretty fast—usually Harry left him alone to cool off for awhile. 

“Yeah.” Draco frowned, he should have known Harry would be able to find him. Stupid auror.

“If it helps, Hermione is on your side.” Harry said with a slight grin. Draco knew he was trying to get him to smile, but the words burned.

Draco chuckled darkly, “Yes, because otherwise I’d just be a fucking Death Eater that wants you to advance for its own sake.” He tipped back the rest of his glass, pouring himself a bit more.

“I didn’t say that Draco.” Harry let out a sigh.

“You are a sacrificing idiot.” Draco said, “And I love you for it, you fucking know I do. But sometimes, a promotion is a good thing. You have many accomplishments Harry. You _deserve_ the head auror position. I won’t apologize for wanting you to succeed—I won’t.” He didn’t know why his eyes were burning again. A kiss made him realize he had his eyes closed. Harry gripped his arms. Saying the words ‘I love you’ out loud were still difficult for Draco. Years of training made him avoid the words—and took too long to say them in the first place. But now he used them strategically, to at least make him _listen_.

“I will consider it.” Harry whispered.

“You promise?” Draco asked.

“Yes.” Harry said, “I’m getting a bit old anyway. I didn’t—don’t tell Viktor I said this—but you pointing out the resemblance made me see it better. I keep thinking he should retire and coach, that he will be happier.”

Draco frowned, “Did he run away from us?”

Harry smiled, “No, he is making us dinner. He said we can come down when we’ve made up, but not before.”

“He made you come find me.” Draco accused with a raised brow.

Harry laughed, “Yes.”

“He knows how to cook?”

“No, but he takes direction from house elves very well.”

“Good. Don’t want to burn down the house.” Draco said, pushing back Harry’s hair, it was quiet for a moment, “You promise?”

“I promise.” He reiterated.

* * *

It was one of the rare evenings Harry and Draco had to themselves that Draco brought _it_ up. Harry had actually had a long conversation with Robards about the promotion, and sounded pretty excited about it. There were more ways to change policy and help multiple aurors with cases. Though Harry hadn’t officially taken the position yet, Draco knew it would be soon.

“Harry?” Draco asked as he ran his fingers through Potter’s unruly hair. He was curled up naked on his chest. It had been a stressful few weeks. Harry was working to uncover a new organization that, while not calling themselves Death Eaters exactly, idolized all the same notions. They were responsible for a few recent attacks in Spain, and one in France. Harry knew it was only a matter of time before they hit England. And being the foremost advisor on Death Eaters, the expectations on him were astronomical. Draco felt like the department expected Harry to just _know_ the answer.

“Hm.” He sounded nearly asleep.

“About Viktor.”

Harry propped his head up, “What about him?” His body was a bit tense.

“I just—he has been around a lot.”

“Yes.” Harry confirmed.

“And we’re—are we ok with that?” Draco asked.

“Do you not want to see him anymore?” Harry asked.

Panic gripped Draco for a moment, but then he remembered the countless fights between the two of them from _implied_ meaning. Or making _assumptions_. Draco let a breath out.

“N-no—I want to see him. I’m checking in with you.” Draco said.

“I like seeing Viktor.” Harry answered, his cheeks turned red as he looked down at Draco’s chest, “Is that weird? I don’t want you to think I don’t like _you_. Or that you’re not enough or—

“I don’t think that.” Draco cut him off before Harry started to spiral.

“Ok.” Harry let out a breath, “I like seeing him here with you when I’m gone for a while. Makes me feel better for not leaving you alone for so long.”

“Do you get jealous?” Draco asked, his body tensing.

“No.” Harry answered instantly, “Do you?”

“Sort of?” Draco smiled, “But I kinda get off on it. I think Viktor plays it up on purpose so I’ll fuck him harder.”

Harry snorted, “That sounds like him.”

“So we both want to continue to see him.” Draco concluded.

“You still want to marry me, right?” Harry asked.

Draco startled, sitting up in bed, _“What?_ ”

Harry flushed bright red, “I just—I don’t know—I don’t want you to think that you’re stuck with me if you don’t—”

“Harry, _yes_ I want to marry you.” Draco said strongly.

Harry let out a breath, “I just wanted to make sure.”

The words caught in his throat, but he knew Harry needed to hear them, “I love you.” Draco reached out, tucking a black curl behind his ear. The brilliant smile that came across Harry’s face every time he said it made it easier to say every time.

“I love you too.” Harry replied with such ease that it made Draco jealous he could just say it like that, “And I like Viktor.”

Draco laughed, “Same.” He nibbled on his bottom lip before he realized he was doing it, then stopped, “Pansy is in a poly relationship, you know—with three people.”

“Luna has talked about the term before.” Harry confirmed.

“Pansy’s not the _best_ relationship—or perhaps a good example at all—but I met a few others when I used to scene at the club. I can reach out to them—see if, I don’t know—see if there’s anyone there we can talk to.”

“I think that would be nice.” Harry nodded, “I’d like to talk to people in a healthy poly relationship to kind of get an idea of how to go about it. I mean, obviously I didn’t have my parents, but I knew they loved each other and were happy. And the Weasley’s, they’re great.”

“Luna probably knows someone too.” Draco said.

Harry nodded, “Sounds like a good idea.” He curled up back on top of Draco’s chest.

“Are you sure you’re ok with this?” Draco asked again.

“I’m scared that by wanting—liking both of you—that I’ll lose both of you.” Harry whispered.

“You’re stuck with me Potter.” Draco gripped him tightly. Harry squeezed him back.

“Should we ask him to be our boyfriend?” Harry asked.

“That sounds like a good idea.” Draco replied. He was quiet for a moment before he said, “Do you think he likes me?”

Harry pulled back off his chest again, “Draco! Of course he does.”

Draco blushed, “You two seem to talk so easily! You’re so comfortable around each other—I don’t have that.”

“You two have a bunch of stuff that I don’t have with him—I can’t talk about racing brooms for more than two minutes without getting bored.”

“It is a flaw of yours.” Draco teased. Harry moved up a bit so he could look evenly with Draco.

“He likes _you_.” Harry pushed back Draco’s hair, “How long have you been thinking this.”

“Day one?”

“Draco!” Harry chastised.

“You’re just so good at talking to people. I’m stiff. You guys—I dunno—touch each other while I’m here. I’m just so—I don’t know—I feel like you guys have a better relationship than me and him. I’m just so—I don’t know, stiff!” Draco huffed. He could tell Viktor was half in love with Harry already, and the same was definitely true of Harry.

“You are—but it makes it all the better when you finally loosen up. I love watching it—I love _you_. Stiffness and all.”

“There is a penis joke in there somewhere.” Draco said darkly, trying to use humor to lighten up the situation.

“I was going to be the gentleman.” Harry said with a smile. Draco snorted, “You guys will get there. You’re a tough nut to crack, Draco. But you’re so worth it. And if Viktor doesn’t see that, then he isn’t what is best for us.” Harry brushed Draco’s hair back, kissing him chastely on the lips, “Ok?”

“Yeah, ok.” Draco whispered, pulling Harry back to his chest.

The next day they did make the effort to reach out to Luna. Talking to Luna ended up being the best idea Draco ever had. She got them in contact with an older poly relationship. And while they hadn’t met Rachel, Edwin and Mark yet, they had exchanged several letters. They seemed to be in a happy relationship in their notes, and were eager to give any and all advice. They lived in the South of France, so they couldn’t meet right away. But they did encourage Draco and Harry to ask Viktor to be their boyfriend at the very least.

Luna helped them plot of a way to do it. It was so wonderful to not feel alone and be out to her. Even if they technically hadn’t asked Viktor yet, both of them were giddy at the possibility. They had a plan that they would ask him once the season was over—as he only had three games left. Harry was also still in the middle of his case. But they had a plan. And a plan made them both excited at the prospect of having a _boyfriend_.

It wasn’t particularly unusual for one night for Draco to go to bed alone. Harry had sent a hurried note that they had a hot lead. He would be back as soon as possible. It was one of their earlier arguments—Draco would go for days without hearing anything from Potter as he ran around saving the world. _Just send me a note_. He kept arguing.

“ _Draco_.” The sound of Granger’s voice filled the room, waking him up. It was a patronus, _“Harry has been hit. Come to Mungo’s_.” The otter disappeared.

For a moment, his entire body froze. It was hot and cold all at the same time. He couldn’t breathe, his body didn’t feel his own anymore. And then, he was in a flurry of movement. He threw off his pajamas and put on something that was right in front of him. He stared at his closet for a moment, wondering why he couldn’t make a decision about a shirt—wondering if this was taking precious time—when he finally grabbed one. Draco grabbed a piece of parchment off the table. His hands shaking. He wasn’t sure how he got to this point, but he felt like throwing up. He hoped his letter got there quickly. He _prayed_ the owl flew fast. He wasn’t sure the last time he prayed.

But he knew he couldn’t do this alone as he ran to the floo.

“What happened?” He asked, looking at the first ginger that was in front of him at St Mungo’s.

“I don’t know. I just got here.” The twin Weasley stated, “Can’t find anyone.”

“George!” Weasley—well, the Weasley called Ron— shouted, “Malfoy!” He was wearing his auror robes, looking more haggard than Draco had seen him since Hogwarts.

“How is he?” Draco asked, walking with Weasley to a waiting room. It shouldn’t have shocked Draco as much as it did to see the entire room filled with Weasleys. How long had they been there before they thought to contact him? Harry and Draco had been dating for nearly three years now, engaged for the past three months. He tried to go over to their house, but they liked to pretend he wasn’t there. Granger, weirdly enough, was the only one who talked to him with anything other than derision. Their interests overlapped, as she was an unspeakable. It was probably Granger who asked if anyone had contacted Draco. No one in the room greeted him. It made him feel like a spectator in grief—like he wasn’t allowed to be with them. His stomach dropped and his body felt cold.

“Healer isn’t sure.” Granger said, her face red from crying, “He is pretty torn up.”

Draco felt like the floor was going to collapse underneath him. His chest felt like it was caving in, “What happened?” Draco asked.

“We had the compound surrounded. Commanding Officer Fitzgerald thought he could talk down the cult leader. Harry didn’t think his narcissism would allow for it. Fitz kept trying to talk the leader down; and while he was distracted, Harry went against orders and got people out.” Ron ran his fingers through his hair, “Kept saying Harry didn’t have the job _yet_. Fitz died in the explosion—Harry tried to get him out. Guess you can tell Harry you were right about that promotion.” The last sentence dripped condescendingly. The rage burned through Draco, and before he knew what he was doing, he threw a punch.

“What the _fuck?_ ” Ron asked, holding his now bloody nose.

“What the fuck do I have to do?” Draco asked, “I realize I will never be one of your favorite people—and you sure as fuck will never be one of mine—but what do I have to fucking do to prove to you—or _any of you for that matter_ —that I love Harry?” The room was silent, but Draco could feel every ginger set of eyes on him. His throat was already raw, “Or that he loves me? Is there some Gryffindor love ritual where I walk over coals? Because I will fucking do it. So please do not suggest that I am _happy_ Harry is on his _fucking death bed_.” Draco knew he sounded a bit out of control, especially as it wobbled a bit at the end. The entire room was staring at him. Weasley turned to Granger with a look.

“Don’t look at me like that. I don’t like him and I agree with him.” Granger said, “Find someone else to fix your nose.”

Molly Weasley walked up to Draco and when she raised a hand, he couldn’t help but flinch. She hesitated for a moment before cupping his cheek, “You need something to eat while you’re waiting. It’s going to be awhile. Sit.” She motioned to the chair beside her. Draco was in kind of a haze as he followed, sitting down next to her. The world seemed to continue to spin, the Weasleys were talking around him but Draco could barely do anything but stare at the ground. Every time someone tried to talk to him, the words came out all jumbled. He mostly just frowned and turned away from talking. He couldn’t concentrate on the words, so he couldn’t respond. He couldn’t help but think each beat of his own heartbeat might be Harry’s last. Another person he loved gone with the wind. Just like his mother, who’s own heart gave out once Lucius was placed in Azkaban again. It was his father, who when finding out of Narcissa’s death, raged at Draco in a maddened rampage and was found mysteriously dead the following morning in his cell. He didn’t know how to breathe anymore. How had his life become so full of Harry? 

“Ms. Granger?” A healer called, breaking Draco from his staring contest with the floor. Granger was on her feet in an instant. Granger was Harry’s emergency contact, and had authority to make all decisions for Harry while incapacitated. Draco assumed it would change to him when they got married, now he wasn’t so sure he wanted that burden, “Harry has suffered multiple blows.” The Healer’s voice was even and calm, but her voice held sorrow. Molly grabbed Draco’s hand, starting to silently cry, “We are struggling to keep him stable enough to fix more of the internal damage. With your permission, we will start the healing procedure.”

“If you don’t?”

“He will most likely bleed out from internal injuries.” The healer said. George dropped his head, and Draco rubbed his shoulder a bit.

“Yeah—ok—um—Draco?” Granger whispered. Draco hopped on his feet, taking his hand back gently from Molly. He walked up and knew from the look in her eyes that she couldn’t make this decision alone. So he gripped her hand for a brief moment, looked at the healer and said, “Please try to save his life.”

“We will.” The Healer promised, “If you would like, the two of you can speak to him before the procedure. He is unconscious, and being sustained by spells, but you can have a chance to say some encouraging words.”

Draco nodded, feeling a bit like he was underwater as he made his way back to the Healing Room. Granger was sobbing quietly next to him, holding his hand as they walked back. Draco couldn’t really feel himself breathe, or think. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to see Harry like this. He took a deep breath before walking into the room. It was like a punch to the gut and a slap to the face at the same time. Harry didn’t look like himself at all. Harry was vibrant, with green eyes that lit up a room. This was a shell of a person. There was gauze over most of him—part of his face, his left side was nearly entirely covered. Both of his feet stuck out clear at the end, and a part of his right hand. Granger looked as terrified as he felt.

“Go ahead.” He whispered to her. There was quiet humming of magic in the air, sustaining Harry’s organs.

“Fight and come back to us.” Granger whispered, “We’re supposed to take on the world together—and I can’t do that without you.” She placed a gentle kiss on the right side of his forehead. She walked back to where Draco stood at the foot of the bed. He stood frozen for a moment. Granger nudged him, so he walked to Harry’s side. His skin looked weird, not like its usually brilliant self.

“I love you.” He whispered, “And I can’t imagine a world without you in it, so please—fight you _stupid_ bastard.” He gently touched his shoulder that wasn’t covered in gauze. His throat burned with unshed tears and for a moment he forgot how to breathe.

“Draco.” Granger said softly, “We have to go.”

How could he explain that he was afraid if he stopped staring at him, he would die? Because right now, he was alive. What if he turned away and Harry died? Would it be his fault?

“Merlin.” Draco managed to say, it came out all strangled and his throat felt raw despite not crying. He let Granger pull him away.

“We’ll take care of him.” The healer promised, a fierce look on her face. He hoped that it would work out. He couldn’t do anything but _hope_. That was Harry’s job. He was the hopeful one. Draco was supposed to be cynical and remind him to keep his feet planted on the ground.

He went back to the hospital waiting room in a daze. Everything felt cold and impersonal. Like the Manor before Harry lit up every nook and cranny of the place. He ripped down old paintings with little regard to their history, placing them in other places when they behaved well. Draco didn’t think Malfoys would change for anything—but apparently Potters have a touch. He sat down back in the waiting room—and he swore there were more gingers there than when he went back. He couldn’t really hear what was being said as he slumped down in the chair. Granger was talking in the background. He could hear crying. Surprised voices, soft conversation. But he couldn’t grasp any of the words. He was staring at the same place as before, where two tiles came together.

“Draco.” A familiar voice cut through all the noise. Viktor was kneeling down in front of him. His chocolate brown eyes were full, staring up at him. His hands on both of Draco’s knees, and he felt warm again. He didn’t realize how cold he was—how hard he was shivering—until that very moment.

“I—I forgot I wrote to you.” Draco confessed. He finally felt a bit at home.

“I had to get a portkey—I came as soon as I could.” Viktor’s voice was soft. All Draco wanted to do was curl up into his grasp, but there were hundreds of ginger eyes staring at him. His voice caught in his throat, he wasn’t sure what to say, “Come with me for a moment.” Viktor gently pulled him up, “Let’s speak privately.” Viktor motioned out the door. Draco could barely take the scrutiny of everyone in the room as he followed Viktor out the door and around a corner, toward the bathrooms.

Viktor walked them both to the large windows—they were magical with a view of a beach somewhere. The gentle roar of the ocean calmed him a bit as Draco leaned back into the corner.

“Draco.” Viktor whispered, cupping his cheek. Once again, warmth shocked through Draco’s system, forcing him to look into Viktor’s eyes. They were a bit red.

“I—I didn’t know if I should write to you or not. But I couldn’t—I can’t—I knew I wanted you here.”

“I am glad you did.” Viktor pushed back some of Draco’s blonde hair. And it was like someone was _seeing_ him. Looking past all of his weird quiet mannerisms that came off too cold.

“I love him.” Draco whispered, his throat burned with the admission. Like the words didn’t want to come up. The years of inbreeding and training making him want to swallow them down. Viktor didn’t say anything, just gently rubbing his cheek, “We were going to ask you to be our boyfriend at dinner on Friday.” Draco blurted out before he could second guess it, tears now rushing to the surface. _We_. It felt like a distant memory to be a _we_. To have plans. It’s like the world stopped and each moment was agonizingly long. How long had he been at the hospital? The sobs started wracking through him, making his chest burn and it felt like it was cracking apart. Warm strong arms wrapped up around him, pulling them close. The heat radiated through him, despite feeling like the world would never be happy ever again, “Please don’t leave me here alone.” Draco sobbed, “I love him—I can’t do this without him.” He gripped Viktor so tightly he was sure he was breaking skin.

Viktor didn’t say anything. He didn’t say everything was going to be alright. It already wasn’t. He just held Draco while he sobbed into his neck. Viktor’s arms wrapped around his back, pulling him close. Draco didn’t know how long he cried, but he eventually pulled back.

“Merlin, now I have to go back in there and not look like an idiot. They think—they _think_ I _don’t love_ Harry.” Draco wiped his eyes as he pulling back out of Viktor’s arms. It felt like they were the only things holding him together.

“I know how much you love him.” Viktor whispered.

“I just want someone here who knows that.” Draco said.

“I’m right here. Not going anywhere.” Viktor promised. Draco couldn’t help but throw his arms around him, pulling him tight. After a moment, Viktor pulled back, looking into his eyes again. It grounded Draco in a way he didn’t suspect. Those chocolate brown eyes pull him down to earth and letting him breath. Letting him _hope_.

“Ok.” Draco whispered the answer to the statement not said. _You can do this_. He let out a slow breath, “I want to go back in to make sure we haven’t missed anything—do I look like I’ve been sobbing?”

“Yes. But the whole room looks like that.” Viktor stated.

“Well, at least I know you won’t lie to us.” Draco said, and Viktor laughed, kissing his cheek.

“I would never.”

Draco pulled himself off the wall, heading back into the waiting room. Once again, there were more gingers when he came back into the room. His seat next to Molly was occupied, but there were two open right by where they walked in so he dropped into that chair. Viktor sat down next to him, his arm wrapped around his shoulder, rubbing it. Draco couldn’t worry about what the room thought about the touch, he needed it more than he cared about what it looked like.

“Who’s your friend Malfoy?” Weasley—well Ron, if he had to be specific—asked. Draco could see by his face that he already knew the answer.

“Viktor—I owled him before I came over.”

“Harry and Draco have been going to his games, hanging out.” Granger spoke up, “He’s at the Manor all the time.” Draco was glad he did not have to explain.

“Just casually friends with Krum.” Weasley said with a shake of his head, a small smile on his face.

“Harry didn’t bring it up because you’re such a fanboy.” Granger teased, and that made Draco smile as Viktor chuckled. Soon, the whole room was laughing. It was a release of pressure, of laughing through tears and anxiety.

It fell quiet, but there was still tension in the air. It was as if no one wanted to take a breath too deep, or speak too loud. Like anything could possible break the room and effect how Harry would turn out. Luna came in as well, whisking in like she just came off a cloud, though her face more serious than Draco had ever seen it. She looked at Viktor sitting next to Draco and smiled.

“I hoped you would be here.” She plopped down next to him.

They sat for hours. Daylight turned into night. Molly brought in food, but it went mostly untouched. Draco must have fallen asleep, because next he knew Viktor was nudging him awake. Tension filled Draco’s gut as a Healer walked into the room; he stood on his feet instantly. She looked exhausted, and Draco wondered if her tightly drawn lips were ready to give bad news.

“He’s alive.” She said. The air left Draco’s lungs and he nearly collapsed. Viktor held him upright, standing up next to him, “He did very well during the procedure. There were a few moments that were touch and go, but he has pulled through. The next twenty-four hours will be critical, but we expect a recovery.” Draco felt like he was going to vomit from the relief, “I would suggest you all go home, get some rest and freshen up so that when he wakes up.”

“Is someone allowed to stay with him?” Draco asked.

“We’re going to keep him isolated for a bit longer, watching his vitals. So go home and clean up, perhaps come back tomorrow around nine.” She said kindly. Draco glanced at the clock on the wall; it was nearly four AM. Nine wasn’t too many hours away, so he nodded.

“Well, everyone clean-up for Harry.” Molly stated, “I’ll bring some food with me, and we can all get here at nine.”

Draco turned to Viktor, “You need a place to shower?”

“Yes, I didn’t bring clothes either.” Draco nodded again.

They flooed to the manor. The fire low and the house quiet as they stepped out. Viktor followed him to the wing of the house that Harry and Draco occupied.

“Draco—” Viktor started, looking nervous, “I—can sleep in a guest room if you have clothes for tomorrow?”

“You don’t have to stay with me.” Draco stated, feeling a hole in his chest.

“I don’t want to step over any boundaries.” Viktor stated.

Draco let out a breath, feeling his eyes burn again as he reached out for Viktor’s hand, “I would prefer you with me.”

Viktor nodded, stepping into Draco’s space. Viktor kissed him. It was for comfort. To feel his presence. For relief.

“Please don’t leave.” Draco whispered, not even sure it was loud enough for Viktor to hear.

“He’s going to be ok, Draco.” Viktor stated, kissing his lips again, “He will be between us again arguing stupidly for the Cannons.”

Draco let out a laugh that sounded like a sob and consented to be dragged to his room. He showered first, quickly. When he got back into the room, his pajamas were laid out on the bed for him. Viktor kissed him again before showering himself. Draco put out pajamas for Viktor, then set about fifteen alarms to make sure he would wake up. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to fall asleep, but he wanted to be first in line to see Harry the next day.

He curled up under the covers, that Harry liked to burry into. He complained about how expensive the sheets were until the first night he slept in them. It shut him up really quickly. Draco didn’t know how long he stared until Viktor slipped in next to him. He kept the sheet up over their heads, touching his cheek gently to pull his gaze.

“Harry is a fighter.”

“I know.” Draco whispered, “I’m just not a very hopeful person.” He said with a self-deprecating snort.

“How does he always say it— _Merlins soggy bottoms Draco, who pissed in your cornflakes?_ ”

Draco couldn’t help but laugh. It was a _horrible_ impression of Harry. His accent was all over the place, and Draco didn’t think he had ever heard Harry refer to Merlin’s bottoms. Though he probably used the cornflakes line at least once a week. The two of them laughed in bed together.

“I don’t think you’re going to win Potter contests anytime soon.” Draco said, wrapping one arm around Viktor’s waist as his eyes began to flutter shut.

“No—definitely not.” Viktor agreed, rubbing Draco’s back gently as he finally let sleep take him.

Getting there ridiculously before nine turned out to be in their favor. Harry had woken early in the morning, and was ready to accept visitors. And since none of the rest of Harry’s family had been early, Viktor and Draco could go back by themselves, as Harry could only accept guests two at a time for the moment.

It was such a relief looking at Potter’s warmed skin, his face with the usual hint of a smile and barely covered mischief. Those green eyes made him week at the knees as he collapsed into the chair next to Potter’s bed. He wasn’t back to _normal_ but so much better than what he had been a few hours ago. Draco couldn’t help but tear up _again_.

“Draco, please don’t cry.” Harry whispered, covering Draco’s hand with his own. His left was still bandaged, but the right was free.

“You gave us quite a scare.” Viktor said, sitting in the chair next to Draco.

“I love you both.” Harry blurted out, frowning a bit after he did, “I kept thinking that I should have told you both as often as I could have—I thought—I thought I was going to—well, I guess I scared myself too.” He grinned a bit, “It’s not the same. I’m falling for Viktor, and Draco is kinda something that is already fully grown. But I just couldn’t—not let you know.”

Draco reached over and grabbed Viktor’s hand. The man was silent for a moment, “You’re ok with it?” Viktor asked Draco.

“Don’t let his silence fool you, he’s falling for you too.” Harry said, “Draco didn’t have a response to I love you for the first sixth months I said it. He just looked like his head was going to explode.”

“Harry.” Draco grumbled, slouching in his chair a bit.

“He’s doing the same thing right now. Just look at his face—that’s the ‘I love you too and I will tell you in sixth months’ face.”

“I don’t know why I want to be with you at all.” Draco said with a huff, the fond irritation building in his chest.

“Just leave me on my death bed.” Harry teased. Draco frowned, his heart flipping and he couldn’t help but squeeze Viktor’s hand, “Too soon?”

“Way too soon.” Viktor nudged Harry’s leg, “We were praying you _not die_ this morning.”

“Ok fine. I’ll wait a bit—but not too long though, ok? No one likes angst.” That last part hit an unexpected raw emotion.

“ _No one likes angst?_ ” Draco exploded, “You were _dying_. I thought you would _die_.”

“Draco—he didn’t mean it like that.” Viktor rubbed his shoulder gently.

Draco added before he could help himself, “And you’re fuckin’ _family_ —”

“What _about_ them?” Harry asked, interrupted fuming. Viktor placed a hand on Harry’s leg, giving him a stern look and turned to Draco.

“Draco.” Viktor squeezed his hand, kissing him quiet, “We’ll talk about it when he gets out, ok?” The anger deflated out of him as quick as it came. The wind went out of his sails.

“Yeah, ok.” Draco whispered, “You need to focus on feeling better.”

“How you guys both didn’t kill each other without me is a miracle.” Viktor stated.

“Lots of make up sex.” Draco said with a smile, “And we nearly did kill each other a few times.”

Harry snorted, “And a big house to walk it off.” Draco took Harry’s hand and kissed his chapped knuckles softly.

Viktor rolled his eyes, “I am very glad you are recovering—what of your injuries?”

“I cracked a few ribs, broke my left arm and left leg. There was internal bleeding from the blast—and they are still working on it, but I might have lost my left pinkie.” Harry held up his mostly bandaged hand, “The internal bleeding was the biggest factor, apparently. Some of my organs were pulverized.”

“Well, that makes me want to vomit.” Viktor said with a grimace.

“Don’t you see injuries in quidditch all the time?” Harry asked.

“No—I look away.” Viktor admitted.

It was quiet again, all three just breathing in each other’s presence. Draco squeezed Harry’s hand tightly, probably a bit too tightly.

“I am glad you owled him.” Harry said to Draco, his eyes drooping a bit as he blinked though the fatigue.

“I couldn’t do this without him.” Draco replied, looking over at Viktor. He couldn’t help but lean in and place a soft kiss on his lips. Viktor had the biggest grin on his face when he pulled back.

“Now get each other off.” Harry demanded.

“Harry!” Viktor cried out with a laugh, as Draco turned to him, rolling his eyes.

“I don’t think your heart could take it right now.” Draco said.

“I’m injured! You’re supposed to do whatever I need to help me feel better. Seeing your cocks would make me feel better.” Harry insisted, though his voice sounded exhausted.

“You can barely keep your eyes open. We will put on a show for you once you get out of this bed.” Viktor told him, “But now you are tired—sleep. We will leave to make room for your family to come through.”

“But you are agreeing to be our boyfriend, right?” Harry asked, “We can ask you all romantic later.”

“I think a hospital bed confession is romantic enough for me.” Viktor said with a grin, “I am honored—I have been hoping—or wondering how this would end. I didn’t want to lose either of you. I was nervous sleeping together would mean we could never stay friends. I am very glad you both want me around.” He looked down at his hands, “I was going to tell you at dinner on Friday that I accepted a position as a coach for Yorkshire team. I am going to move to London, apparate to work—but I was hoping to spend more time with both of you.”

“You were going to ask to _us_ to be your boyfriends _too_?” Harry asked with a grin.

Viktor squeezed Harry’s leg, “Yes.” Draco kissed Viktor softly, smiling at him and then turning to Harry. Though his eyes looked a bit drooped, he looked happy. His green eyes sparkling and a smile back on his face. Harry squeezed his hand, letting out a rough laugh. 

“If all it took was me dying to get everything I wanted, I should have done it sooner.”

“ _Merlin’s beard Harry_.” Draco said with an exasperated laugh.

“For fuck’s sake Harry.” Viktor nudged Harry’s leg. Draco felt his chest expand like his heart was too full in his chest. He looked at them both—his enemy turned lover, and the new boyfriend that he couldn’t have even dreamed up. He wished he would have known in the dark moments that his life would turn out like this. That the pain, the changes, the emptiness—it would be worth every moment of it to get to this point. Draco knew he had a ridiculous grin on his face, but he was sure it was just as ridiculous as the two smiles reflecting back to him.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say Hi on Tumblr! Caedes12


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